Gloaming
by isharaine
Summary: A one-shot of Kyoya at Tamaki and Haruhi's wedding.


The whiskey—a Matheson 1942 Dalmore—burned on its way down, but Kyoya welcomed the sting, sucking in a bracing breath.

The Scots called this time gloaming, the purple sky neither day nor night, trapped between two heavenly bodies, fleeting. He cradled the glass in his palms, striding out to the edge of the patio, ignoring the festivities inside. The resort staff was already packing away the rows of white chairs, transforming the garden wedding venue into a garden full of fairy lights.

He strode to the edge, where a stone wall stopped people from tumbling into the sea down below. The salt air stung his eyes, he told himself, taking another sip from his glass. The watering of his eyes had nothing to do with the wedding reception going on the chateau behind him.

This was his third drink, or maybe fifth, but tonight it was like water. He made a mental note to tell Tamaki that the bartenders probably watered down the liquor; it was not fitting for the Suoh heir's wedding.

The sea and sky were the same color, save for the last streaks of the sun blazing a path he was tempted to follow. It would be easy, he thought. Just step off the cliff and into the ocean, and no one would be the wiser.

After all, it wasn't every day that his best friend married the woman who held his heart. He took another sip, wondering if he should just grab the entire bottle from the bar.

He looked ruefully down at his suit. It was the same garish lavender shade as their high school uniforms. Tamaki's doing, of course; he had loved their high school club, it was where they had all met. So it stood to reason that all five of the groomsmen would be in the same coloured suits. Tamaki, the groom, had been blinding in white.

The bride, though. Kyoya's throat tightened at the memory of Haruhi appearing at the end of the aisle. He hoped nobody had noticed the emotions on his face as he stood beside Tamaki at the altar. He brought the glass to his lips again to quiet the trembling, and drained it.

"You're not wearing your glasses today, Kyoya-sempai." Her voice, low and soothing, sent tendrils of heat across his skin. "I didn't know you wore contacts."

"Cong—" he cleared his throat so she wouldn't hear his voice break. "Congratulations, Haruhi. With today's events, your debt is cleared." Afraid to look at her, he continued to stare out at the ocean, schooling his features into his usual uncaring mask.

She laughed, and the sound made his chest hurt. "Are you still talking about the vase I broke, all those years ago?"

"Yes," he responded, helpless under her spell. "Taking on Tamaki Suoh for life is a burden not many can bear. So I think we can call it even. He is your problem now."

"He is, huh?" She came up beside him, and he didn't have to turn to see the radiance emanating from her. "Yes, I suppose he is my problem now." He heard the amusement in her voice.

Like a magnet drawn to the poles, he faced her, damning his own masochism inwardly. "You… will be happy, won't you?"

"I will." The words were faint, but he absorbed them, closing his eyes. "And I'll make him happy too, I promise." She cocked her head, looking at him with those guileless eyes. "And what are you doing out here? Aren't you cold?"

He realized that her shoulders, bare in the strapless gown, were decorated in goosebumps. Without a second thought, he whipped off his own suit jacket and draped it around her. With her hair up, she looked just like she did in high school, down to the purple wool that made her skin glow in contrast. She laughed again.

"Wow, Kyoya-sempai. That's rather… gentlemanly of you." The twinkle in her eyes almost got a smile out of him. Almost. "I guess the party must be boring for you since you really won't get anything out of it."

"It's your wedding, Haruhi. Go back and be a good host." He leaned over and brushed his lips against her forehead. "I'll join you shortly. It's a little too warm in there."

He didn't imagine her almost imperceptible intake of breath, nor the blush that spread across her cheeks. Did she know…

She took a step back, blinking rapidly as if to hide tears. "Thank you. For everything."

He gave her a tight nod and watched her flee back inside, feeling the knot in his stomach loosen. When her retreating silhouette disappeared from sight, he resumed his perusal of the view, setting down his now-empty glass. Night had fallen, and the stars were glimmering.


End file.
